


A Truth Suppressed

by amethystviolist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 09:26:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3169772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystviolist/pseuds/amethystviolist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester knew he was a good liar, but he didn't realize how good until he couldn't convince his own mother of the truth. Now she thinks he and his roommate, Cas, have been boyfriends for months, when they really haven't even become that great of friends. Worse, she and John are coming tomorrow to visit the 'lovebirds', and Dean's going to have to explain everything to Cas so they can let down the Winchesters easily. But Cas, by the gods of pie, is something special, and with his crazy plan, they just might keep Dean's parents in ignorant bliss, while discovering more and more that the elder Winchesters aren't the only ones who have been fed lies.</p><p>“But a truth suppressed is a reality ignored.”<br/>― Luke Montgomery</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was true, Dean was pretty good at lying. He could lie without problem to any teacher since elementary school. He could lie to his friends about his extra job when they asked why he wouldn’t go out with them. He could lie to one-night stands about the one-night part. But lying to Mom had been close to impossible; the closest Dean ever got was saying that he had hit that douchebag Alistair and not Sam (she bought it until she saw Sam’s knuckles). Mom had been the first to know he was bisexual, and the first to know that he wanted to go to college before moving back home for the mechanic shop, and the first to know when he fell in love for the first time.

It was the last one that was the problem, because whenever someone mentioned Castiel Collins, suddenly Dean would find himself unable to draw on his masterful deception skills. And his mom had just unwittingly blown the clumsy network of lies he had built around Cas into dust.

“Uh,” he answered eloquently, mouth dry against the phone's speaker, “You want to come to our apartment… tomorrow?”

“Yeah, we’d only be with you about two nights, you know how your father loves to drive without stopping.” Mom sounded exasperated, but Dean could also hear the warmth and love thrumming underneath her words, a tone he was used to hearing his whole life. Especially when in relation to Dad. “Plus, it’s a two-bedroom apartment, and I know you and Cas are just using one room,” she added with a laugh. Dean lowered the phone briefly, covered the mouthpiece, and hissed out a string of curses to his bedroom ceiling as he tried to think of what he should say from here.

It’s not like he had meant to lie to his mom. After Dean had subjected her to a full and complete description of the way Cas made noodles, she had somehow assumed that Dean liked Cas more than just a roommate. Dean didn’t try to argue with that, because it was true, even if she somehow knew psychically. He did try to protest a few weeks later when she asked how the first date went, but she didn’t really believe that Dean’s stuttered denial of ‘what date?’ was the truth, and the lie had spiraled out of control since then. Now it had finally gone too far, because it would be obvious the minute she stepped in the apartment that the college students were nothing further than friends. Resignedly, Dean put the phone back up to his ear with the intention to tell Mom that they weren’t boyfriends, they weren’t dating, and Dean didn’t even know if Cas liked guys; no matter how disappointed it made her.

“-picture you sent of you two at Charlie’s party!” she was saying as the phone touched his ear again. “I’ve hardly seen you so happy, Baby, than you looked in that moment with your boyfriend under your arm. You could have just told me when you started going out, you know, it was pretty obvious from the way you talked about him. I didn’t think you could talk about anyone but Sammy that highly,” she teased. With just that, Dean’s resolve crumpled. His mom sounded so happy for this dream relationship he was in with Cas… And Dean had been happy, maybe too happy, to pretend for a few minutes once a week that Cas returned Dean’s feelings. Even Dad had been accepting of Cas, at least when listening to Dean talk about him, anyway. Could Dean just throw away this rare moment of pride and happiness even if it was mistakenly achieved?

“I’ll, uh, I’ll ask Cas, Mom. I’m sure it’ll be fine for you to come visit,” Dean replied, trying not to let on that his heart had just dropped like a stone into his gut, and closed his eyes as the guilt set in. He would have to explain this to Cas tonight so they could get Dean’s stuff moved out of the second bedroom, and maybe so they could work out some way to let his parents down easily.

“Thanks, Baby,” Mom said warmly, and Dean could imagine her smoothing her hand down her blonde hair with a smile as she made a kiss sound into the phone. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon unless Cas says otherwise.”

“Sure thing, Mom. See you,” he managed to say with some cheerfulness.

“Angels are watching over you, Dean.” The line clicked off, and Dean held the phone for a moment in the dim light of the bedside table lamp, letting the silence cover him, trying to calm his rapidly unraveling nerves. Would Cas kick him out after this? What if Cas hated him? Dean didn’t want to stop seeing Cas every day, even just as the friends they sort of were, which was part of the reason he had never mentioned his feelings before. Now it seemed like Dean didn’t have a choice but to tell Cas exactly what those extra five minutes in the shower were for, and why Dean tried so much to make Cas smile, and just how head over heels Dean had gone for blue eyes that crinkled at the corners with a grin and dark hair that Dean was practically itching to touch. He would have to tell Cas everything, and Cas wouldn’t even have time to… to… think about it or react to it or… or anything! It was all incredibly unfair to Cas, and Dean wrestled with his conscience, trying to tame it enough so that he could maybe talk to Cas without curling into the fetal position. Finally, glancing at the little clock on the dresser, he did his best to steel himself for the coming conversation. Cas had to know about this crush. No other way around it.

Dean returned the phone to his pocket and sat up on the edge of his bed, looking around at his room with new eyes. The bed would stay, of course; maybe he’d change the sheets. The contents of the drawers could just be dumped into Dean’s suitcase or something until his parents left. There were no posters or signs on the walls, just a couple pictures stuck into the frame of the mirror. It would be almost too easy to move into Cas’s room… for very disappointing reasons. With a sigh, Dean rose from the bed and dragged his feet over to the door. For whatever reason, the bedrooms were on opposite sides of the little kitchen/dining room/living room, but the rooms had never seemed so far apart. At last, his whole body heavy with dread, Dean knocked on Cas’s door. A few moments, and it opened, owlish blue eyes wide with curiosity looking back at him.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said pleasantly, like they always visited at ten o’clock.

“Hey, Cas,” he replied, shifting uncomfortably in his T-shirt and sweatpants.

“Is something wrong?” asked Cas, his brow furrowing in a way that was decidedly not cute. _Focus, Winchester._

“Uh, well…” Dean took a deep breath. “Yeah, Cas. There’s a problem.” Cas stepped out of the room dressed as casually as Dean had ever seen him, in a faded T-shirt and- _Cas in boxers holy shit_. Dean didn’t notice was staring until Cas followed his gaze, looking down at his legs. To Dean’s surprise, Cas turned an adorable shade of pink across his cheeks and ears.

“We can talk in the living room,” Cas said quickly, ducking back into his bedroom and closing the door in a matter of seconds. Dean, his neck burning red, hurried away from the door and out to the main area of the apartment. He settled onto one side of the rather threadbare green couch and drummed his fingers nervously on the side. Maybe he could ask Cas to leave the apartment for a few days? No, no, that would be incredibly rude. This was still technically Cas’s home, the contract from the building said “Castiel Collins” plainly. Dean just provided half of what the bill said, and either way he had no right to make Cas leave because of his stupid mistake. Dean was so caught up in his desperate ideas to get out of this mess that he didn’t notice Cas returning until he sat in the chair closest to Dean’s side of the couch.

“What is the problem?” Cas asked as bluntly as ever. Dean noticed with relief (and a tiny bit of disappointment, which he squelched immediately) that Cas had put on a pair of dress pants. It looked weird, but at least Dean wouldn’t have to try as hard to keep his mind off Cas in underwear.

“My parents want to come stay here for a few nights on their way to visit my brother. He’s at Stanford, up the coast a ways from here,” Dean began to explain.

“I don’t object to that,” Cas replied, looking confused. “Do you... want help to clean the apartment?”

“Well, no- I mean yes! Yes, but no, that’s not what the problem is,” Dean continued haltingly. “They want to stay here, Cas, uh, in the apartment. They think…” Dean braced himself, “They think we have an extra room.”

“The apartment has two bedrooms for two people, Dean,” Cas pointed out. “We don’t have an extra.”

“I know, Cas, I do live here you know.” Dean looked down at his hands in his lap, unable to look at Cas as he finished. “I might have told them that… I may have… They think we’re together.” After a second of silence, Dean risked a peek at Cas’s face. Castiel had his head tilted to one side, his confused frowny face making his blue eyes almost disappear.

“We are together,” he said slowly. “We’ve been living together for several months. I fail to see-”

“They think we’re boyfriends, Cas!” Dean said in a rush. Now Cas reacted, his eyebrows lifting and his frown loosening until his lips were just ever so slightly parted. Somewhere Dean could hear a clock ticking. It sure wasn't his heartbeat he heard, because it was pumping way faster the longer Cas was silent.

“Oh,” he finally commented. Dean could have been struck dead at that moment and be grateful about it.

“I- I didn’t mean to, it’s just... I always had trouble with holding a relationship, I mean I’m just not good with people, and I mean, I kinda talk about you sometimes, and well, she just thought we were a thing, and I didn’t really think it was going to be a problem…” Cas was just staring at him. Not uncommon, true, but Dean couldn’t read a single emotion on his neutral expression, and it was really unnerving. “I’m sorry, man, I hope that this doesn’t… Offend you or something.”

“I am not offended, Dean,” Cas finally spoke, and just that made Dean relax incrementally. “I am merely… surprised. I was under the impression you were exclusively heterosexual.” There was something strange in Cas’s tone. He didn’t exactly sound disapproving, at least.

“Nah,” Dean shook his head. “I knew I was bisexual by the time I entered high school. Saltwater and freshwater both float my boat, so I’ll sail on both,” he finished with a rather weak grin. Cas looked mildly confused about this statement, but chose not to comment on it, to Dean's relief.

“And your parents were accepting of this?” he asked instead.

“Pretty much,” Dean shrugged, twisting a loose thread of his sweatpants between his fingers. “Mom was cool with it, and Dad came around soon enough.”

“My mother was… less than pleased when she discovered my preference for men,” Cas shared somewhat hesitantly. Dean leaned forward from the couch slightly, intrigued. Cas was a pretty private person, and despite four months in the same apartment, they didn't know each other extensively.

“Did she change her mind?” asked Dean curiously, looking back at Cas.

“No,” Cas answered shortly, averting his gaze as his mouth hardened into a straight line. Dean felt the silence stiffen around the topic, and quickly reverted to the original subject.

“So, uh, they think we, y’know, share a bed… And that leaves the other one for them,” Dean explained, watching Cas out of the corner of his eye since he was too much of a coward to see Cas's disgust directly.

“Did you correct them in thinking we are romantically involved?” Cas asked, his eyes boring into Dean’s with an uncomfortable intensity. Dean met his eyes for a moment, but shame caused him to again drop his gaze.

“...No,” he muttered. “They were just content to know that I was… happy. I didn’t- I couldn’t-”

“You don’t want to lie to them, but you don’t want to disappoint them,” Cas summarized efficiently. Dean found himself nodding.

“Yeah. I don’t know what I should do now. I mean, if you don’t mind, I’d still like them to visit. We can clear out my room for them pretty easily. But, uh, I don’t know what to tell them about…” Dean dropped his flaming face into his hands and groaned. “Man, this is all kinds of screwed up. I’m really sorry, Cas.” The hand on his shoulder surprised him since his eyes were covered, and Dean quickly blinked them open to see Cas’s small, comforting smile above him.

“It’s okay, Dean. I may have a plan that will work to maintain your parents’ approval,” Cas suggested calmly.

“Well, feel free to share, Einstein, ‘cause I got zip,” Dean said with his palms held out helplessly.

“We could pretend to be engaged in romantic activities for the days your parents are here-" Cas began, although Dean thought his brain might have short-circuited too much to even hear the rest of the sentence, "-and after they depart, you would have the option of saying we became estranged instead of admitting to your falsehoods,” Cas offered. His countenance was a little strange, like maybe he didn’t really like this plan, but if Cas was willing to do something like that, Dean was all over it. Dean jumped to his feet and latched his arms around his roommate in a tight hug.

“Thanks, man,” Dean smiled, pulling away to beam at his friend. “I will make you burgers and pie for a week!”

“That seems a bit excessive,” Cas commented with a tiny, amused smile. “But I always enjoy the food you make.” Dean felt his chest give a little helpless flutter, so he cleared his throat and stepped back, nodding decisively.

“So, yeah. Uh, they’re coming tomorrow afternoon, so we need to dump all the crap from my room somewhere in yours tomorrow morning,” he suggested.

“Of course,” Cas answered calmly. “I’ll assist you. There should be a few drawers you can use for your items.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Dean said quickly. “Don’t go changing your room up for me just sleeping in there for a few days.”

“I don’t mind,” replied Cas earnestly. “And it would look odd if your belongings were merely piled in a corner or in a suitcase.”

“Well, I kinda doubt they’re going to go scope out your room extensively,” observed Dean. Cas gave him a hard look that was probably not meant to be as sexy as it actually was.

“If this plan is to work, details will be important,” Cas stated firmly. “Tomorrow we’ll need to go over a few more specifics of our supposed relationship.”

“Uh…” Dean swallowed heavily. “Okay, we can do that.”

“Yes.” Cas cleared his throat and rubbed a hand through the hair on the back of his head, making it stick up even more. “Good night, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.” After another moment of eye contact, Dean turned away to his bedroom door, his steps considerably lighter. Yes, this plan was crazy, and it might not work, and it had the potential to blow up in their faces. But by the gods of pie, Dean was going to do his best not to mess this up. He already had spent hours thinking about the things he could do with Cas, and to his surprise, not all of them ended up being sexual.

He could imagine holding Cas’s hand as they walked to some class (he knew they both went to the biggest brick building on Thursday afternoons). Or maybe taking Cas to the park, where they could find some bees (Dean knew Cas had a stack of books devoted to the stinging nuisances). Or maybe they could watch a movie, like _Lord of the Rings_ or _Star Trek_ that would let them sit closely together on the couch (Dean Winchester certainly didn’t cuddle, of course). Whatever happened, Dean would pull it off. For one thing, Cas didn’t sound like he was mad, or would kick Dean out of the apartment, so no matter what his parents thought, at least he would have his friend. No reason to worry. Dean was a good liar already, and this lie was already almost too easy to pretend that it wasn’t a lie at all.

And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to convince his parents to still be proud of their elder son, without them ever knowing what a true failure he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave me a comment! I love to hear from people who've read my work, I hope you're enjoying it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, Cas sighed softly, and Dean turned to look at him at last.  
> “I know this is, er, uncomfortable,” Cas began, “But we need to establish some sort of history between us to ‘keep our stories straight’, so to speak.” At literally any other time Dean would have pounced on the “straight” joke in that sentence, but for now he just nodded.  
> “Alright. What do we need to decide?” he asked as professionally as he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, this one's shorter, my apologies. The next part will be longer, I promise, but this was the best stopping place for a chapter divide.  
> Again, I'd like to thank my friend Corry, who's galaxyjo on Tumblr, and my friend Nate, for being really encouraging beta readers and helpful editors.

Dean woke up to someone gently shaking him.

“G’way, Sammy,” he grumbled, half-asleep.

“Dean,” insisted a deep voice that was definitely not Sammy’s, “Dean, we need to prepare for your parents’ arrival.” Dean’s eyes snapped open, finding Cas perched on the edge of his bed, fully dressed in blue jeans and a button-down shirt.

“Cas?” Dean croaked confusedly. Cas’s hair, as usual, was completely unkempt, and Dean thought it completely unfair that Cas already looked really hot and it was only- he squinted at the clock- 8:37 am.

“Good morning. I apologize for waking you, but there’s much we need to complete before Mr. and Mrs. Winchester arrive,” Cas pointed out. Dean groaned and sat up, running fingers through his hair. He needed it cut soon, he noted with a grimace.

“Right, right, clearing the-” Dean dropped off mid-sentence into a yawn before continuing, “Clearing the room. Yeah. Okay, lemme get dressed and we can start.” Cas nodded and left the room as ninja-like as he’d come, closing the door after him.

“Hate to see him go, love to watch him leave,” Dean muttered under his breath, and began hunting for a fresh pair of socks. Give or take about ten minutes, and Dean stumbled out of his room to the common area of the apartment, squinting against the sunlight pouring in through the one window that looked down on the entrance to the apartment building.

“Would you like an apple?” Cas’s voice asked. Dean turned to the tiny table beside the kitchen counter and found Cas munching on one of his own behind the bowl in the middle of the table filled with apples and the odd banana. Cas and Sam were alike in keeping random fruit around the house. Dean took one with a murmured thanks and the room was filled with the sound of crunching apples and the lack of sound that rose from awkwardness between two roommates. It wasn’t so much that Dean couldn’t bear it, so he sat in the chair across from Cas and avoided looking at him, staring around the room and considering what needed to be cleaned or picked up before Mom and Dad came. But too soon, the apples betrayed him, and as neither man was eating, the silence grew positively oppressive. Finally, Cas sighed softly, and Dean turned to look at him at last.

“I know this is, er, uncomfortable,” Cas began, “But we need to establish some sort of history between us to ‘keep our stories straight’, so to speak.” At literally any other time Dean would have pounced on the “straight” joke in that sentence, but for now he just nodded.

“Alright. What do we need to decide?” he asked as professionally as he could.

“First, when did we begin to be romantically involved?” Cas asked matter-of-factly, which was kinda how Cas asked everything. “A month after you moved in? Two?”

“Dude, it’s only been like four,” Dean pointed out. “How about one? And then maybe got more serious around two months in?”

“That’s acceptable.” Cas nodded once, as though it was set it stone now. “Where did we go on our first date? And who asked the other out?”

“Um… What’s your favorite restaurant?” Dean asked instead of answering. Cas thought for a moment.

“Kellnerino,” he decided after a few long seconds. “I like their lasagna.”

“Okay,” Dean shrugged. “So, uh, I asked you out? And you got lasagna, and I got… spaghetti?”

“Their spaghetti is also good,” Cas assured him, blue eyes bright and happy. “Sometime we could-” The dark-haired man cut himself off, clearing his throat, and his expression became carefully neutral again. “You should try it sometime.” There was a beat of hesitation from Dean, unsure of where Cas had been going with that sentence, before he decided to ignore it.

“Sure,” Dean agreed, slightly confused. “Alright. Next, uh… we went on more dates, I suppose.”

“Yes. Where would we- Where did we go, Dean?” continued Cas.

“Would you enjoy, I don’t know… The park? You could look at the bees on the flowers,” Dean pointed out.

“I like bees. That would make an acceptable outing.” Dean watched the tiny smile on Cas’s face widen, and when Cas turned his gaze to meet Dean’s, Dean might almost describe Cas’s sapphire eyes as dancing. It sorta took his breath away.

“Alright, your turn, then. Where next?” asked Dean, leaning back in his chair so that two legs lifted from the floor.

“Perhaps a car show,” Cas suggested casually. Dean’s chair thunked back down to the floor as he leaned in with sudden interest and no small amount of surprise.

“You like cars, Cas? I didn’t know you liked cars!” Dean exclaimed, astonished he didn’t know about this interest that they shared.

“I believe it is common to take your partner somewhere that he or she will enjoy, not just yourself,” Cas replied, a one-sided smile on his face. “For example, I take it you don’t have a sudden interest in bees.”

Oh. Well played, Collins.

“That’s true, I just thought you might like that idea,” Dean admitted, looking to where his fingers were tracing patterns on the table. “But… Yeah, okay, we went to a car show. That sounds like it was awesome,” he added somewhat dreamily.

“When did we attend? Should we look up dates of real car shows on the internet?” They continued in the same way for another hour or so, building up a false past full of romance that they never had. Dean learned new things about Cas, too, maybe more than he had learned in the past four months living in the same apartment. It wasn’t that they weren’t friends before, they just never really hung out. They had different jobs, different classes, different friends.

But now Dean knew that Cas took his coffee with just a little bit of creamer, and that the creeper-ish tan trenchcoat Cas always wore was a gift from his father shortly before he went missing, and that Cas actually did have super ninja skills because of some type of martial arts training. And with every tidbit of information Cas let slip, Dean fell in love a little more with the man sitting in front of him as his hands waved around, more full of life than Dean had ever seen him, as he explained why driving to the beach for one of their relationship outings would be illogical because they both had classes and jobs and- Yeah, his eyes looked fantastic when they were alight like that. Dean wished that they were reminiscing about their dates instead of making up fake ones. He wished his parents could meet Cas as his boyfriend for real. He wished Cas’s feelings were real. In the midst of this wistful thinking, Dean realized Cas was looking at him expectantly.

“What?” he blurted in ignorance. “I was thinking.”

“I asked if you thought it prudent to practice physical affectations while your parents are here,” Cas repeated himself.

“Pr-p- What?” Dean spluttered. Cas patiently folded his hands.

“Touching. Hugging. Kissing. Holding hands. These are expected romantic behaviors, yes?”

“Uh… Yeah, yeah, Cas,” agreed Dean, who noticed that his mouth was suddenly very dry. He was one thousand percent okay with kissing Cas. Even a fake kiss.

“We have approximately four hours,” commented Cas. Dean could practically see the gears turning in his head, planning their next moves, thinking ahead for problems. “In that time, I suggest we fix the rooms, finish any last thoughts about our false romantic history, and… And…” For some reason, Dean noticed suddenly, Cas was turning pink around his ears and cheeks, and now Dean  _really_  wanted to know the end of that sentence.

“And what?” he demanded.

“And perhaps, uh, practice physical affection,” Cas muttered softly, his blush flaring. “I- I haven’t kissed anyone before.”

Hold up.

Cas never so much as  _kissed_  anyone before? So Cas was… Sweet gods of pie, Cas was a virgin, too, and that meant…

“Holy shit, Cas,” Dean let out like a hiss of air. “You’ve never dated or… or had sex or… or _anything_ , have you?”

“I never had the time,” grumbled Cas, who was glaring at the tabletop. “School was always of more importance.”

“You’re a  _senior in college_ ,” Dean said incredulously, mouth gaping wide. “How the hell have you not… You didn’t…”

“I had the unpleasant experience of someone kissing me,” Cas shared almost defensively. “But she was rather intoxicated. And I don’t count it.”

“Cas…” Dean breathed, unsure of what he was trying to say. The thought of  _Dean_  being Cas’s first kiss, even with false pretenses, was giving him a head rush. And after this was all over, if Cas didn’t completely hate him, maybe he would take him somewhere. And… And maybe get over this bit of cowardice. But Cas, blissfully unaware of the frantic excitement Dean was working through, seemed even more embarrassed.

“That’s why I think we should attempt it without an audience first,” explained Cas. He sounded ashamed, avoiding Dean's blatant, gaping stare by looking at the table. “I don’t want my… lack of experience, to hinder the illusion we’ve worked so hard to create.”

“Yeah.” Dean swallowed, trying to smother the fire that was building in his veins. “Yeah, good idea, Cas, you’re… That’s a good idea.” Dean could see Cas’s eyes so clearly from this close. There were different shades of blue in them, really, light and dark both radiating in shimmering ribbons around his iris. They were really quite incredible, or maybe stunning would be-

“I, uh,” Cas cleared his throat and broke eye contact, shaking Dean out of his thoughts. “I have a crate I used to move my own things. If you wish to use it to transport you may.”

“It’s okay,” Dean waved off the offer. “I got a suitcase that’ll do just fine.”

“Very well,” agreed Cas. “I’ll go reserve a drawer for our use.” Together, the men rose from the table and set off to their individual rooms. As Dean began throwing things into the suitcase, with little regard for order or organization, it occurred to him that he was nervous about this arrangement.

Which was unusual. Dean Winchester was certainly no preteen girl who blushed at the thought of a brushing of lips. He was the guy who made out with that Spanish porn star in sophomore year, earning himself a few brief weeks of fame in the dorm. He was the guy that lounged at a bar and let the girls (and the occasional guy) flock to him, without doing much of his own searching. He shouldn’t be getting fidgety over one fake kiss to his friend. Dean’s totally and completely platonic relationship with his roommate shouldn’t be an issue here. Yet still, butterflies danced in his gut and his heart pounded faster at the thought of leaning in closer to Cas and connecting their lips for the first time. It made his stomach twist and writhe, yet at the same time tingles of heat raced over his body. Overall, it brought him to one conclusion.

Love was freaking weird. And he was hopelessly drowning in it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do whatever you think is appropriate for the situation in which we find ourselves,” Cas replied logically. “I will do my best to respond appropriately.”  
> “So if I do this,” suggested Dean, sidling over to Cas and throwing an arm around his muscular frame, “What will you do?” After standing stiffly for a moment, Cas’s leaned into Dean’s side, and tilted his face up to- Was he actually /smirking/?!  
> “Probably nothing,” Cas said in a way that was definitely not nothing. Not with that his eyelids lowered and his tongue darting out over his lips. This was… extremely un-Cas-like.

Dean finished cramming his things into the suitcase despite his jittery nerves and lugged it out towards Cas’s room, a sock or two slipping out onto the floor. He paused at Cas’s bedroom door, which was partially open, and decided to knock. He rapped the door twice, and Cas called out an acceptance. Dean walked into Cas’s room for the first time, trying not to look like he was staring at anything he could find.

Unfortunately for his growing curiosity, Cas had few personal items in the room. The walls were bare and unpainted (although that might be the landlord’s doing), without any posters or pictures gracing the room. A few notebooks were stacked on the dresser identical to Dean’s, but that was nothing compared to the mountain of textbooks piled on the desk in the corner, papers covering what surface wasn’t taken over by books. Another few books lay in random, odd places over the room, one on the bed, a few on the floor, one open book even balanced on the lamp. Apparently Cas really did take his studies seriously. Dean smiled at Cas, who was standing by the bed looking a little apprehensive.

“Where should I dump this?” he asked.

“The second drawer from the top is all yours,” replied Cas, stepping over a textbook to assist. “Do you want to fold them, or roll them, or what?” Cas looked back at Dean with an intrigued expression, like folding Dean’s clothes was the most important job in the world. It was one thing Dean admired about Cas: his ability to completely focus on anything.

“Don’t worry about it, we can just dump it in,” Dean answered casually. “If it fits, it won’t matter. I sincerely doubt Mom’s going to go through the drawers.”

“I don’t mind,” Cas insisted calmly. “Details do matter, Dean.”

“Fine,” Dean surrendered. “Have at it. Can I, uh, pick up some of these books?” Cas frowned a little.

“They were in a system. But I cannot recall what it was.” His brow wrinkled up in thought, and Dean felt his chest constrict slightly. Surely Cas could make _one_ expression that Dean didn’t find attractive. He just hadn’t found it yet.

“That’s cool. I’ll just stack them on the desk for now,” Dean shrugged. Cas agreed, and they fell to their respective tasks. Dean found a packet of notebook paper, and used the pages to mark Cas’s places in the open books, slowly straightening the desk until it looked less like a jumbled mess and a little more like a work space. Pens, Dean discovered, could burrow into the most odd places, but he tracked down several of them to place in a cup under the desk lamp. By the time he finished, Dean was ready for something less finicky, and turned to ask Cas if the could switch jobs, only to find blue eyes mere inches from his own. Dean made a very dignified noise that was nothing like a yelp, and took a step back.

“You need a bell,” he commented with a chuckle. “You’re quiet as a cat.”

“It was not my intention to startle you. My apologies,” Cas replied seriously. “Your drawer is organized properly now, and we have approximately an hour and a half remaining. We should eat a brief lunch, and then, if the apartment is tidy enough for your parents, we can move on to…” Cas swallowed visibly, and Dean’s stomach made an appearance with a nervous flutter, “To practicing showing our mutual affection,” Cas finished determinedly. Dean nodded, stepping past Cas for the door.

“Works for me. What’ve we got for lunch?” he asked on his way out to the main area of the apartment.

“I think the ham I bought earlier this week is good,” Cas suggested, following Dean to the small kitchen area and its table. “Although we may be out of bread.” Dean ducked into a cabinet, and emerged with the remaining pieces of bread in a plastic bag.

“Or not,” Cas added dryly. Dean glanced back with some surprise. Was that an actual display of humor? Cas was smiling slightly, and Dean felt his blood pump faster. God, he’d do just about anything for Cas’s smile.

“Gourmet ham sandwiches it is, then,” Dean announced, and began retrieving plates and the package of meat, handing the items off to Cas to place on the table. Two glasses of water in hand, the two roommates retired to the wooden table, taking turns with passing the makings for their meager lunch. Dean, usually ravenous by this time after just eating an apple, found his appetite strangely lacking. Their lunch break seemed to drag on forever, although the digital clock of the microwave clearly showed that they’d only been sitting there for only fifteen minutes. Cas didn’t seem to be exactly ravenous himself, since just a few bites were gone from the sandwich on his plate. The clock over the kitchen sink seemed to tick loudly in the mostly silent kitchen, resulting in Dean absently drumming his fingers just to keep the silence somewhat at bay. He glanced at the clock again. 12:02. He turned back around to face Cas, opened his mouth to say something, _anything_ , but no words came out. After another moment he gave up, and returned to his sandwich, taking one bite and chewing slowly. He swallowed after an eternity and checked the clock again. 12:04. Overcome with frustration at last, Dean put down his sandwich and folded his arms, staring at Cas, who was holding his sandwich without really doing anything with it. Cas noticed his look after a moment and put down his lunch too, his eyebrows lifting questioningly.

“Did you say something?” Cas asked apologetically. “I wasn’t listening.”

“You’ve never kissed before,” Dean said, not bothering to admit he’d just been blatantly staring at Cas’s face. Dean’s sentence wasn’t really a question, but he was still struggling to accept that someone as attractive as Cas hadn’t so much as made out with someone else before.

“No, I haven’t,” affirmed Cas calmly. “I presume you have?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean answered, unsure why he felt guilty about that now. Of course, he hadn’t ever felt uncertain about kissing someone before, either, not since his first date in high school, anyway, so maybe his emotions were just going haywire today.

“Then explain to me the mechanics of a kiss,” Castiel requested with complete seriousness. “I’ve seen people kiss on television and in films, but that doesn’t explain what I’m supposed to… do.”

“You… Um,” Dean swallowed, watching the way Cas studied his lips with interest. He touched his own self-consciously, trying to think of how to explain kissing and not think about what he’d like to do with Cas’s mouth. That combination was incredibly hard. “You just kinda…You… I don’t know, it just happens,” Dean grumbled, annoyed with his own inarticulate attempt at an explanation. “Lips meet, and you… It goes…” Dean gave up with a muttered curse, and glared at the remains of his sandwich.

“Would it be easier to demonstrate instead of explain?” Cas asked, and Dean was fairly certain he’d have a sore neck from looking up so fast.

“Um,” Dean began, the words in his mind tumbling around madly. “I, uh, I mean, I can, if- if you want. I don’t want to make you, um, uncomfortable or anything.” Actually, that was a lie. Dean wanted to make Cas squirm and gasp and writhe because of what Dean was doing to him, and... And those kind of thoughts were exactly what would make Cas uncomfortable.

“It would not cause me discomfort, I… assume,” Cas replied, looking only a fraction as nervous as Dean felt. “What… What do I do?”

“Nothing while a table’s between us,” Dean said with a very nervous smile. In unison, the men stood from the kitchen table, and hesitantly met in front of it. Cas had always shown the tendency to stand uncomfortably close in any situation, but now he was a respectable distance from Dean, which shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. It wasn’t like Cas stood close for a reason, he just had… misconceptions about personal space. But now Cas was an arm’s length away, like a normal human being, and Dean actually missed the way Cas stood awkwardly close. This acting job had already changed things between them, and that was the last thing Dean wanted.

“Now what?” Cas asked in the charged silence. Dean took a hesitant step forward, and to his relief, Cas did the same. Their bodies were inches away now, and it took all of Dean’s thoughts about Bobby in a swimsuit and his dad wearing flip-flops to even remotely hold it together. Every inch of his skin felt like it was reaching for Cas, to feel the heat of his body, bathe in the scent of his aloe shaving cream, and press against Cas to get closer and closer like Dean wished they already were. He looked down at Cas’s pink, chapped lips that were- his breath hitched slightly- suddenly really, really close.

“Now we kiss,” Dean blurted simply, and leaned down, closing his eyes and frantically picturing anything he could think of to keep his emotions away from Cas.

Their noses brushed for an eternal instant, and then Dean found Cas’s mouth with his own.

Now, Dean never bought into the romance-y crap about having electrical tingles shoot through your veins, or feeling weightless as air when your endorphins kick in full power, or anything lovey-dovey about first kisses. But now that his lips were moving against Cas’s in gentle sweeps, tucking Cas’s bottom lip between his own, shivering slightly as Cas made the tiniest gasp of surprise, Dean almost bought into every sappy, romantic description of a kiss he’d ever heard in his life. He pulled back after a moment that felt too brief, his tongue running unbidden over his lips to see if he could taste Cas there. If anything, Dean only got an unsatisfying hint of honeyed chapstick. If Dean thought his brain was melted from the practice kiss, it was nothing compared to how Cas looked. Cas’s face was paler than normal, with his blue eyes wide open, although unreadable as usual. A finger was raised to his lips, probably unconsciously, and gently touched his lips. Both men were breathing faster than the short moment of contact required, and Dean felt his heart make a bid for freedom by jumping into his throat. By Dean’s experience, it wasn’t really even a great kiss. They just kinda let their lips touch, with minimal motion. So why was Dean’s heart palpitating like a fish out of water?

“How was that?” Dean asked finally, getting more control of his body and his thoughts.

“It was…” Cas sounded as breathless as Dean felt. “...Very unanticipated, in many aspects,” Cas finally answered, and Dean could practically see the surprise and whatever else he was thinking slip behind a carefully schooled expression once more. Dean found himself slightly disappointed, then angry at himself for the disappointment. What was he expecting, some sudden declaration of love? Cas pushing him into a wall for another kiss? This was nothing more than rehearsal for them to play their parts.

“Should we, uh-” Dean cleared his throat before continuing, “-try again?”

“Perhaps that would be best,” Cas agreed calmly, and this time it was Cas reaching forward, his lips soft and inviting. Dean let their mouths meet again, and tried in vain to picture Sam in pink tights, or redheaded Charlie wearing neon orange hats, but nothing he could think of was enough to distract him from the fact that Cas was this close to him, and yet, at the same time, he was farther away than ever. After another moment, Cas broke contact, and to Dean’s surprise, he was shaking his head slightly.

“I believe I am too... stiff. Too reserved,” he commented with what sounded like frustration. “We do not have the ease of a couple that has been together for months.” Dean nodded thoughtfully, and tried his best to focus on things besides how tempting Cas’s wet lips looked.

“Here,” Dean finally said gruffly, and pulled Cas into a hug, only partially to force himself to stop staring at Cas’s mouth. Sadly, the ploy for easy touch was unsuccessful, as Cas was stiff as a board in his arms; completely unresponsive. “Well, we’re up close and personal now. But you gotta hug back, Mr. Comatose,” Dean reminded him lightly.

“My apologies,” Cas answered, his voice muffled against Dean’s chest. Slowly, Cas lifted his arms around Dean’s sides and patted his back awkwardly. Pulling away after a few seconds, Dean smiled at his friend.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, right?” he asked encouragingly.

“No, it’s not…” Cas looked away and cleared his throat, his ears reddening. Was he uncomfortable with all this? Maybe Dean should have started with hugging before kissing. “It is not bad,” Cas continued after his hesitation. “I am merely unaccustomed to participating in displays of physical affection.” Dean’s stomach felt like it was suddenly filled with concrete, but he smiled anyway. Cas didn’t have to like touching him, of course, not for acting purposes, but it was still somehow a little saddening.

“That’s okay. Just, uh, stand close to me like you do. Is it okay if I, like, throw an arm around you or something?” Dean requested almost too hopefully before forcing his face back into something appropriate for a polite inquiry about grocery shopping.

“Do whatever you think is appropriate for the situation in which we find ourselves,” Cas replied logically. “I will do my best to respond appropriately.”

“So if I do this,” suggested Dean, sidling over to Cas and throwing an arm around his muscular frame, “What will you do?” After standing stiffly for a moment, Cas’s leaned into Dean’s side, and tilted his face up to- Was he actually  _smirking_?!

“Probably nothing,” Cas said in a way that was _definitely not nothing_. Not with that his eyelids lowered and his tongue darting out over his lips. This was… extremely un-Cas-like. But despite Cas’s sudden relaxation of posture, his eyes remained kind of distant, Dean suddenly noticed. That meant Cas was still acting, and he was almost too good for Dean to handle. Dean swallowed briefly and grinned at Cas’s exceptionally close face.

“What if I do this?” Dean continued, and without warning, stepped back and threw his other arm under Cas’s knees, lifting him into the air bridal-style. Cas flailed about and grabbed Dean’s neck as Dean grunted with effort. Cas wasn’t by any means a small man, standing about six feet tall, but he had some kind of muscles apparently. It was almost like trying to pick up Sam.

“Dean!” Cas commanded in a growl that _fucking hell_  sent hot blood straight downstairs. “Put me down!” Dean complied quickly, lowering Cas’s feet back to the floor with a thump. Cas stepped away, looking torn between amusement and anger. Dean decided to grin apologetically.

“I got carried away,” Dean offered as an apology. Cas’s lips twitched slightly.

“I believe I was the one carried away,” he retorted, and unexpectedly, Dean burst out laughing. After a moment, even Cas was smiling, showing teeth and everything, which was kinda heart stopping, and Dean did what felt natural. He stepped in and kissed Cas’s big, bright, beautiful smile. To Dean’s surprise, Cas melted into the kiss as though it was perfectly normal, and for the first time, Dean felt a flare of hope for their crazy plan. Maybe they could pull it off after all. Dean stepped away and grinned right back, but Cas’s smile had faltered, his sapphire eyes dropping to his own hands. Too soon, Dean’s smile faded as well, and he came back to himself. They were acting. They were both pretending for the sake of Dean’s ego and his parents’ happiness. There was nothing between them, and after this awkward fiasco, there never would be. With a clearing of his throat, Dean glanced at the clock.

“It’s well past noon,” he commented uselessly.

“Your parents will arrive soon,” Cas pointed out. For a moment or two the silence returned, like a blanket smothering the laughter that had just brightly existed. “About when would you expect them?” Cas finally asked.

“Maybe one o’clock? One-thirty?” Dean guessed, then shrugged. “We’ve still got time. Is there anything else we have to do before they arrive?”

“Will they be expecting lunch?” Cas inquired, and Dean felt his eyes widen.

“Shit, I didn’t even think of that!” Dean exclaimed. “I’ll, uh, I’ll call them. Gimme a sec.” Dean turned away, pulling out his phone, and tapped in his Mom’s cell number with the ease of habit. The phone rang a few times, and to Dean’s relief she picked up.

“Hey, sweetheart!” his mom’s voice said cheerfully.

“Hey, Mom,” Dean answered, smiling despite his inner stressing about the whole fake-boyfriend act they were about to attempt. “I was wondering, did you guys eat already?”

“Oh yeah, stopped at a Burger King on the way into town,” she replied readily. Dean smirked.

“You realize that no one goes to Burger King except Dad, right?”

“I know,” she said with a laugh. “It’s one of his adorable quirks.” Dean could hear Dad mutter something in the background, and Mom laughed. “He says we don’t know what’s good.”

“Or we just actually have taste buds,” Dean joked.

“Yes, _some_ of us do,” Mom replied, and Dean could hear her smiling. Huh. She sure was happy after such a long drive.

“So when do you guys think you’ll get here?” asked Dean as casually as possible.

“Maybe fifteen minutes, traffic permitting.”

“F-fifteen minutes?!” Dean practically choked.

“Oh, stop cleaning, I’m sure the apartment looks fine,” his mom assured him, and Dean looked back to Cas with panic in his eyes. Cas folded his arms, looking confused.

“Fifteen minutes,” Dean frantically mouthed to Cas, and went back to speaking on the phone. “We just, uh, we needed to-” Suddenly, the phone was whisked from Dean’s grasp, and he didn’t even have time to look where he dropped it before he heard Cas’s calm and assured voice.

“Hello, Mrs. Winchester, this is Castiel Collins. I assure you, everything is in order. You do not need to prolong your extensive travel time.” Dean looked at Cas with shock. How was he so calm? Cas ignored Dean’s gaping mouth completely.

“Yes,” he said after a pause. “Of course. ...I understand. He is merely experiencing a lack of tact due to his small lunch. ...That does sound advisable,” Cas replied to whatever Mom had said, glancing briefly at Dean. “Yes, I look forward to making your acquaintance as well. ...Thank you. Goodbye.”

“Dude, what the hell?” Dean exclaimed as soon as Cas lowered the phone and tapped the red hangup button.

“You were unusually flustered. It would have compromised our planned course of action,” Cas stated calmly, holding out Dean’s phone. Dean snatched it back, muttering darkly to himself and unsure of what he was even saying. He shoved the phone back in his pocket and threw his hands into the air.

“Now what?” demanded Dean. “We’ve got about ten minutes and then we’re going to just pretend to be boyfriends and we’re going to lie about the past few _months_ of time together, and then what? Mom’s going to see through it as easily as a glass window and then I’ll be in even deeper shit for dragging you through the mud with me!” This was a horrible idea. Why did he even mention this to Cas in the first place? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“You’re not dragging me through the mud,” insisted Cas softly. Dean clapped a hand over his eyes and groaned.

“Not _literal_ mud, Cas, I meant that-”

“I am aware of your meaning, Dean,” Cas quickly cut him off. Dean uncovered his eyes, surprised by the interruption. “And you are in no way causing me harm by playing along with a plan that was my idea in the first place.” Dean found himself speechless at that argument. Cas’s face softened somewhat as he continued. “We agreed that I needed to physically relax more in your presence so that I do not betray our deceit. You need to emotionally relax before your parents so that you also keep our secret. Can you put aside your stress even momentarily and pretend to yourself that I am your significant other?”

“Uh,” Dean swallowed, wishing he could as easily swallow the emotions bubbling up in his chest. “Yeah. Yeah, Cas, I can do that.”

“Good,” Cas said, again business-like and formal. “From this moment on, there is no acting. We are becoming our characters. You are my boyfriend, Dean Winchester.” Smiling without entirely knowing why, Dean stepped forward and started fussing with Cas’s light blue dress shirt, refolding the collar and smoothing out the shoulders.

“Lucky to have you here with me, babe,” drawled Dean teasingly. Cas smacked Dean’s hands away and used his own hands to smooth Dean’s hair.

“Your hair is a mess,” Cas all but growled. “And stop fussing; _my_ wardrobe choices are adequate. You, however, are wearing a T-shirt.” The way Cas said “T-shirt”, Dean might have thought it was a federal offense.

“They saw me in diapers, you know, I think they can handle it,” Dean snorted. Cas gave him the confused squint.

“Really?” He sounded surprised. “They don’t expect you to be more appropriately dressed?”

“No, ‘course not. They know it’s my home, I wear what’s comfy,” Dean shrugged. “Why, do your parents go around the house in suits?”

“Of course,” Cas replied, like it was a silly question. Dean mirrored the confused look, a little less squinty than Cas’s but with all the wrinkled nose.

“Seriously?” he clarified. “They just waltz around the-” He was interrupted by the buzzing of the doorbell. Dean felt his heart rate triple, and Cas blanched.

“It’s going to be fine,” Cas muttered, and Dean was honestly not sure if he was talking to himself or to Dean. “We can do this.” With a shared intake of breath, the two roommates marched to the door like it was a waiting noose, and stood for a moment behind it, keeping to their own thoughts. Dean instinctively moved his hand, groping for- Woah, woah, woah. Was he looking to hold Cas’s _hand_? No. No way in hell was that going to happen. He quickly forced his searching hand to return to his side, but to his surprise and mortal embarrassment, Cas’s hand caught it before it, and locked their palms together. In an instant, Dean felt both more courageous than he should have and much more distracted than was advisable, considering the situation.

“Yeah,” Dean whispered. “We got this.”

And Cas opened the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love reading your comments! If you're enjoying this story, you may like my other Destiel ficlets :) Have a lovely day and thank you for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Yeah, it’s just hard to believe Dean actually snagged him after wasting months pining for him,” Jo smirked. Dean’s face reddened, but he knew he couldn’t say anything to stop her from encouraging their current deception. And Jo was telling the truth, which could only help sell the rest.  
> “Months?” Cas repeated, looking at Dean with wide eyes.  
> “Yes. Months. Soooo many months. You have no idea how much I’ve had to suffer! Ever since he laid eyes on Cas, Dean’s only been able to talk about-” here Jo adopted a high falsetto clearly meant to be Dean (which made no sense! His voice was very deep and manly, thank you!), “- ‘Oh, his eyes are so blue!’ And ‘He’s amazing, Jo, he’s just so intelligent!’ And “Jo, I want to take Cas out to the park and frolic with the bees and the flowers’-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been two years since I've updated... I do apologize for going dark on the progress of this fic, for those of you who care to follow that progress. I've had this chapter mostly done for those two years with the intention to finish it and start the next before publishing this one. But I now realize that Chapter 5 may not ever come into existence. So I finished Chapter 4, and though I'm not saying I'm abandoning this fic for good, I do want to be clear that I have no plans to work on this in the near future. Feel free to talk to me at amethystviolist.tumblr.com, or read my other works on this site.
> 
> Enjoy. And sorry for the wait.

“Dean!” The sound of his name was the only warning he had before Dean found himself wrapped in a hug that smelled of cinnamon.

“Hey, Mom,” he smiled, tugging his hand out of Cas’s only to suddenly miss the warmth- _what are you, in middle school?_ \- and hugged her back. “How was the drive?”

“Long,” a deeper voice answered from the doorway. Mary pulled away and John stepped inside the apartment, stretching out a hand to Dean and smiling warmly. “But worth it.” Dean clasped his father’s hand and smiled back. The door closed behind them softly, and Dean inched over to stand next to a less-than-composed Cas.

“Uh,” he began shakily, “Mom. Dad. This is Cas- Uh, Castiel Collins.” For a small instant, Cas withstood the gazes of three Winchesters, their scrutiny making a charged silence. Thankfully, the moment passed as quickly as it had come, and Mom was scooping Cas into a bear hug just as big as the one she had given her son.

“Cas!” she sighed, as though they were old friends. “It’s so good to meet you at last! Dean always talks so much about you, I feel like we know each other already.” Dean noticed how Cas stiffly underwent the hug. Apparently he was forgetting their physical contact practice from earlier, brief as it was. They should definitely practice more. Lots more. In private. Preferably a bedroom.

With a clearing of his throat, which jerked Dean out of that line of thinking, Cas pulled away from Mary’s arms.

“It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Winchester,” Cas said gravely. “I had-”

“Oh, please,” she interrupted, batting her hand toward him as if to wave away the formality. “Call me Mary.” Cas looked taken aback, as though this was the last response he had expected, his gaze shifting ever so slightly toward Dean in a plea for help. Really, Dean felt like laughing. Cas's formalities seemed even more out of place than usual next to the laid-back Winchesters.

“And this is my dad,” Dean added unnecessarily, prompting John to step forward and offer his tanned and calloused hand to Cas.

“Hey… Cas,” John greeted him awkwardly. “Good to meet you.”

“Hello, Mr. Winchester. I trust your traveling went well?” Cas asked, trying to appear polite and unruffled.

“Like hell,” he grumbled back. “Gas is too damn high to do any sort of proper traveling.”

“I’ve heard that,” Cas replied vaguely, and Dean realized yet another barrier between his roommate- _boyfriend, right_ \- and his father. John dismantled and reassembled Bobby’s junk cars for a living, and knew almost any car inside and out. Cas didn’t even own a car, and probably couldn’t tell a radiator from a fan belt if his life depended on it.

“Need help with your things?” Dean asked pointedly, for once choosing to interrupt a potential car conversation before it started. He purposefully avoided glancing at Cas’s face that had turned toward him, afraid to see the annoyance there at all these interruptions.

“Oh no, we’re not _that_ old, you know,” Mary laughed, and returned to the door to hoist a black suitcase strap to her shoulder. “Just give us a bit of floorspace!”

“That won’t be necessary,” Cas answered her matter-of-factly. “We have a spare room.” Silence suddenly prevailed in the apartment as John and Mary stared at Cas with confusion. Dean fought a grin at the looks on his parents’ faces, wondering if that’s how he looked the first time Cas had sprung his literal interpretation on him.

“‘Floorspace’ is just an expression,” Dean explained quickly, nudging Cas with his elbow and limiting himself to a small smile. “She doesn’t really want to sleep on the floor.”

“Oh,” Cas said softly, and ducked his head slightly. From behind, Dean could see his ears burning red with embarrassment. “I- My apologies.” Mary opened her mouth to reply, but Dean was faster.

“Don’t sweat it,” he shrugged, and inwardly steeled himself for the next move. Unconsciously holding his breath, he stepped forward and, as casually as possible, slipped an arm around Cas’s waist. Cas tensed, clearly having not expected the touch, but almost instantly relaxed into it and flashed Dean a tight smile.

“I grew up in a very isolated home,” Cas explained to the elder Winchesters. John retrieved his suitcase, which was more of a duffel bag, and slung it over one shoulder.

“Where’d you grow up?” he asked pleasantly.

“A small place in Utah,” Cas replied without inflection, although Dean saw his eyes flash for a moment. Maybe family wasn’t the best topic.

“I had family in Utah,” Mary commented to Dean’s surprise. “Said they always had good neighbors and bad weather.” At that, Cas cracked one of his rare smiles, and this one, Dean noticed with a small palpitation, reached his eyes all the way.

“There was certainly a lot of temperature fluctuation in our area,” he agreed, and Dean felt his own shoulders relax incrementally as the conversation veered away from Cas’s family.

“Did you ever have to deal with scorpions?” John asked with some interest as Dean and Cas led the way to the ‘spare’ room.

“Scorpions were not uncommon,” Cas answered. “But it was the snakes that caused problems.”

“I thought most snakes were pretty solitary?” Mary clarified, lowering her suitcase at the foot of the freshly made bed.

“Until small Collins family children decide they make good objects of pranks or friendly pets,” Cas replied, one corner of his mouth twitching up into an amused smile. The other three laughed, and Dean relished the surprise and happiness flitting across Cas’s face at their appreciation of his humor. They were en route to the collection of furniture that made up their ‘living room’ when Dean thought of another way to help the illusion.

"Wasn’t it you who scared someone with a snake, Cas, or was that just your rowdy siblings?" Dean asked teasingly, which thankfully resulted in a hilarious story involving various snakes, three mismatched shoes, multiple cases of revenge, a pair of overalls, and the reason why Anna could guilt Gabe into doing anything. Dean may have asked the question to make it seem like they traded childhood stories often, but Cas seemed to roll with it as easily as if he spoke about his life to strangers every day, and Dean couldn’t help but admire his acting. The story had to be true by the way his eyes held both happiness and sadness when he spoke about his family, and Dean treasured every word of the story.

All three Winchesters were roaring with laughter, Mom doubled over on the couch and Dad next to her with his head thrown back, Dean trying and failing to keep his eyes on Cas and laugh uncontrollably at the same time. Cas’s face was shining, his eyes bright and surprised, perhaps because he couldn’t quite believe that Dean’s parents were such interested listeners. Dean watched Cas’s mouth move, watched his hands flying in explanations, watched his posture relax into the armchair as he engrossed himself in telling the story.

By the time the laughter from Cas’s story died down, Mary had launched into a related tale, describing how Dean and Sam had somehow gotten fireworks one year and snuck out to set them off on the Fourth of July. Soon she had Cas grinning just as widely as the others had during his story, and the part where Dean’s pants caught on fire (Dean hid his face in his hands and groaned at the memory) had Cas full-out laughing. The hours passed almost too quickly as they bounced from story to story, and only when Dean’s stomach was growling with hunger and his face was sore from laughing and smiling did the talk begin to peter out.

“Speaking of food,” Mary began as she wrapped up her final tale, “If you two know of a pizza place, John and I will be pleased to pay.” Cas had an eager, childlike expression on his face- a rare sight that made Dean’s heart constrict

“I rarely eat pizza,” Cas commented, and turned his laser gaze on Dean with almost excitement. “Do you have a suggestion?”

“Uh, no, not off the top of my head. Let me go check for a nearby place, I think my phone’s charging in the room.” Dean moved from his spot across from Cas and turned toward his room, his mind already on the closest and cheapest pizzerias in the neighborhood. Only when Cas cleared his throat did Dean understand his mistake, and immediately yanked his hand back from the doorknob like he’d been burned. Wrong room. He didn’t have a room, he shared. With Cas. Right. The same Cas was stretching his neck to see over John’s head, and lifted his eyebrows. Dean shuffled as quietly and subtly as possible toward the other room, suddenly grateful that the couch faced away from the rest of the apartment.

“Would you like my input in the matter of choosing a place from which to order our food? I believe I have a phonebook in _our_ room,” Cas offered pointedly.

“Right!” Dean squeaked. “Uh, yeah, sure, Cas, we can pick together. I know there’s a few around here somewhere.” Dean hurried the rest of the way to the opposite door as Cas stood and followed at a more calm pace.

“So,” Dean sighed as soon as he had closed the door behind them. “This isn’t stressful at _all_.”

“I think it’s going well,” Cas replied in a serious whisper. “They seem very… happy.”

“They do, don’t they?” Dean affirmed, smiling slightly. “We haven’t visited in person for a long time.”

“I haven’t seen my parents in seven years,” Cas commented simply. Dean blinked, fighting to keep his face impassive. The topic of Cas’s family had warning signals flashing all around it, and as much curiosity as Dean possessed, it wasn’t worth angering or offending Cas.

“Right,” Dean cleared his throat, and ceased whispering. “Uh, where do you like to eat pizza, Cas?”

“I haven’t eaten pizza in recent memory,” he answered thoughtfully. “But isn’t there a place near campus on 5th street?”

“Oh yeah! With a bird or a boat or something on the logo,” Dean recalled. Cas’s lips twitched into a smile.

“Bird, boat, something with a ‘ _b_ ’,” Cas smirked. Dean shot him a confused look, wondering why his roommate- _boyfriend_ , he’d get it eventually- looked so smug.

“Something with a ‘b’?” He repeated questioningly. Cas’s smile grew.

“Bumble _bee_ ’s Pizza, Dean. You’re thinking of the _bee_ logo.” Dean’s burst of laughter surprised himself as much as Cas. Of course Cas would remember the restaurant featuring bees- _and_ manage to make a pun out of it.

“Sure, Cas. Bee’s it is. Can you direct me there if I drive?” Dean asked, and Cas nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The college students and their two guests slid into a booth at Bee’s Pizzeria while the three Winchesters continuing the argument that had lasted the whole drive over. Dean noticed that Cas chose to quietly look at a menu and stay out of the discussion.

“I still think we should get two mediums. That would be more than enough,” Mary insisted. John and Dean remained unconvinced.

“At least one large meat lovers’,” Dean wheedled. “You can pick the toppings on the other, Mom.”

“Well, I don’t know that we want a medium if one is a large,” Mary argued.

“But everyone likes meat lovers’ pizza,” John pointed out. “And not everyone likes the strange things you get on your pizza, darling.”

“Green peppers are in no way strange!” Mary protested, their lifelong argument rearing its head once more.

“What do you think, Cas?” Dean asked loudly over the sounds of his parents’ age old disagreement. Cas looked a little caught on the spot as he lowered his menu, but he tried to handle it with grace.

“I, uh,” he began unsteadily, then cleared his throat. “I think if we got a medium meat lovers’, then Dean and Mr. Winchester could share it, then get a large pizza for us all to share with other toppings we all like in addition to some meat.”

The others digested the suggestion for a moment, until John began to nod slowly.

“You might be onto something there,” he said agreeably. “Mary?”

“Sounds great!” She grinned at Cas.

“Did I hear the jury decide over here?” an amused voice asked, and Dean quickly turned to see the blonde waitress grinning at him, tapping her pen on her orderbook.

“Jo!” Dean exclaimed happily. He quickly turned to his parents. “Mom, Dad, this is Jo Harvelle, she’s a history major.”

“Good to meet you,” Jo said easily, nodding at the other Winchesters.

“You wouldn’t happen to know an Ellen Harvelle, would you?” John asked to everyone’s surprise.

“She’s my mom,” Jo answered, giving John an odd look.

“Old coworkers,” John explained, and smiled a little wider at Jo, who looked uncomfortable.

“Right. We don’t talk too much anymore... And you must be Cas!” Jo said a little too loudly, giving Dean’s roommate an appraising look.

“You’ve never introduced your friend and your boyfriend?” Mary asked, sounding slightly reproachful.

“I’m more of a hamburger person,” Cas said quickly. “And my major has little to no interaction with history-focused classes.”

“Right,” Dean just agreed, nodding as though this was all old news.

“Your boyfriend?” Jo asked disbelievingly. Dean shot her a smile, but his eyes hopefully conveyed the real message of _shut up, shut up, shut up_.

“Oh, Jo’s a real joker,” Dean forced a chuckle. “As if she didn’t know Cas and I are _dating_ and have been for _months_.” Jo’s eyebrow shot to her hairline, but she seemed to understand the lie.

“Yeah, it’s just hard to believe Dean actually snagged him after wasting _months_ pining for him,” Jo smirked. Dean’s face reddened, but he knew he couldn’t say anything to stop her from encouraging their current deception. And Jo was telling the truth, which could only help sell the rest.

“Months?” Cas repeated, looking at Dean with wide eyes.

“Yes. Months. Soooo many months. You have no idea how much I’ve had to suffer! Ever since he laid eyes on Cas, Dean’s only been able to talk about-” here Jo adopted a high falsetto clearly meant to be Dean (which made no sense! His voice was very deep and manly, thank you!), “- ‘Oh, his eyes are so _blue_ !’ And ‘He’s amazing, Jo, he’s just so _intelligent_ !’ And “Jo, I want to take Cas out to the park and frolic with the _bees_ and the _flowers_ ’-”

“Okay, they get it!” Dean snapped, the force of his glare somewhat diminished by the heat rising high in his cheeks. He carefully avoided looking anywhere in Cas’s direction.

Jo rolled her eyes but she was grinning widely. “Alright, Winchester, as long as these fine people know what you’re really like. Speaking of which, what would you like to eat?” She pulled out her notepad, pen, and expression of innocence much faster than Dean could get her back for ribbing him so much about his crush in front of his parents and _Cas his actual crush_ of all people.

Mary and John ordered, with minimal input from Cas on certain toppings. Jo practically skipped back to the kitchen with the paper in hand, probably ready to tell Garth everything about Dean’s insane plan. He watched them rather grumpily from the table through the tiny window in the swinging kitchen doors, until he realized Cas was trying to ask him something.

“Huh? Sorry. Thinking about pizza,” Dean explained to the waiting table.

“We’re discussing pineapple as a pizza topping,” John caught him up shortly, and Cas fixed Dean with a laser-bright gaze.

“Do _you_ dislike fruit?” Cas asked with interest.

“It’s not that I don’t like fruit!” Mary exclaimed quickly. “But, well, in some circumstances-”

“Dude, fruit on pizza is an _abomination_ ,” Dean interrupted, wrinkling his nose in disgust. To his surprise, Cas let out a small chuckle. “What?” Dean asked, feeling his chest tighten just from Cas’s laugh.

“Your passion for your pizza toppings is very amusing,” Cas explained, smiling at Dean with a fond look in his eyes. Dean watched that face, tried to preserve its memory forever, before clearing his throat and looking down. Cas was really good at this.

Too good at this.

“I don’t see why everyone hates pineapple on pizza so much. I don’t love it, but it isn’t an _abomination_ ,” Mary added pointedly, looking at her son with a raised eyebrow.

Dean shrugged unapologetically.

“It’s disgusting!” Dean’s father jumped in with passion. “Too much juice, and _sweet_ juice at that, with hot and garlic-y tomato sauce?” John argued. “Mary, darling, it’s nothing short of an atrocity.”

The light-hearted argument continued, punctuated by a short breadstick battle between Dean and his mother for the glorious taste of the first dip of garlic sauce, until the honor was given to Cas by an exasperated John.

Soon, everyone was cautiously tearing away nearly-too-hot slices of pizza. The table was surrounded by a contented silence occasionally broken by slight noises of distress as the pizza sauce separated from the dough, or a particularly tenacious cheese string dripped from a chin. However, as Dean came up for air halfway through inhaling his pizza, he finally saw what exactly his roommate was doing. He held his own diminished slice, somehow avoided shocked choking, and watched in horror for a few moments, trying to understand what exactly he was seeing.

“Cas,” Dean finally said, after a few minutes of this criminal activity, “What the hell are you doing?” Cas looked up, still chewing his bite.

“I am eating pizza,” he said plainly, giving Dean a confused frown.

“But… You’re eating it all squished together,” Dean pointed out in horror. “Who does that?”

“I merely rolled it up,” Cas demonstrated, unrolling the slice and then folding it once more. “Do you always eat pizza point first?” Cas inquired, his squinty-eyed expression intensifying. There was an intense moment where everyone examined each other’s pizza eating habits. To Dean’s immense satisfaction, Cas was the only one eating it _wrong_.

“Of course I eat it point first!” Dean defended himself. “Why would you not?”

“Perhaps I enjoy keeping my hands and shirt clean of sauce,” Cas retorted, and without breaking eye contact, slowly took a bite out of the rolled slice again. Dean blinked a few times, meeting Cas’s defiant stare with blank surprise.

“That’s sick,” he stated. “If I knew I was rooming with someone who…” Dean trailed off, remembering halfway through his sentence that their massive charade of spending months together meant they had probably, in their false background, eaten pizza together before. So he was supposed to already know that Cas ate his pizza like a freaking burrito.

“...With someone who would _still_ refuse to see the error of his ways,” Dean substituted after a beat of confused silence. “Not for my lack of trying!” he quickly added with a grin, and Cas, catching on, rolled his eyes theatrically.

“It tastes just as good or better like this. If you tried it once, you might enjoy eating it rolled up, Dean,” he suggested.

“Nope.” Dean shook his head and stubbornly took a bite of the pointed side. “I am not eating my pizza the _wrong_ way.”

“If you insist,” Cas answered placatingly, and calmly continued to eat the rest of his slice in the same way. Dean shook his head and sighed, looking at his rather amused parents.

“I can’t take him _anywhere_ ,” Dean sighed melodramatically.

Mary hummed a little, clearly not committing to a side, and gave John a meaningful look. Dean observed the silent exchange, and as usual with his parents’ (probably telepathic) silent communication, he couldn’t make any sense out of the intense staring.

“Who wants brownies?” Dean said instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Upon reaching the apartment once more and saying goodnight to his parents, Dean began to worry. Jo had made it _very_ clear that Dean had a crush on Cas at some point, and she had heavily implied that crush was still burning hot.

She was right, but Dean wasn’t sure that’s how he wanted Cas to find out. Or even if he wanted Cas to find out at all. Admitting his feelings might get him a hell of a satisfying relationship, but it also might get him a black eye and a sudden case of homelessness, not to mention a loss of their (admittedly pretty new) friendship.

Dean took off his shirt absentmindedly, staring blankly at the wall of Cas’s room, when Cas emerged from his bathroom with a small frown.

“Do your parents commonly act like this?” Cas asked suddenly. Dean studied Cas’s countenance for a moment, and let his confusion show on his face.

“Like what?” Dean asked blankly.

“They… They are excellent listeners. And seem genuinely pleased to converse with us,” Cas clarified.

“Well, we all have our stubborn moments,” Dean answered, a wry smile on his face, “But yeah, they’re pretty good at listening.” Cas seemed to be mulling this information over in his mind, a brooding, uncertain expression that Dean didn’t like to see in those blue eyes.

“You done in there?” Dean asked, and Cas nodded, stepping aside for Dean to brush his teeth at the sink.

Returning to the bedroom was weird. The light was off, Cas was in bed, and Dean was supposed to just _climb in bed with Cas_ and then _go to sleep_.

Weird. But awesome.

“My parents never wished to converse with me and my siblings in quite such a… an unburdened manner,” Cas said into the darkness, apparently continuing their earlier conversation. Dean was pulled from his anxious thoughts enough to turn off the bathroom light and cross the room, sliding into the bed and carefully staying on his side.

The air conditioner whirred softly.

“When I told my mom I was bi,” Dean began in a low voice, gazing at the ceiling from his position on his back, “She didn’t really understand what it was. She assumed I’d like either girls or guys and that would be it.” He closed his eyes and remembered. It was a Sunday. Mom was standing by the sink, watering the flower on the windowsill, when Dean had approached her and, in stuttering words, asked to talk for a minute. She laid down the green watering can and smiled, nodding and saying something reassuring that Dean no longer could remember.

“When I said I liked _both_ guys and girls, she was a little confused,” Dean continued. “But she never doubted me. She nodded, and hugged me, and said she’d try to understand me better. And she did,” Dean recalled with a small laugh of disbelief. “She researched what bisexuality was, and how it would affect me, and did me the favor of explaining the matter to Dad.” He opened his eyes again and propped himself up on one elbow. “She’s always been better at knowing me than even myself. I think it’s ‘cause she listens. She _wants_ to listen.” Cas exhaled slowly, his eyes locked on Dean’s.

“She really does not object to us being… Together?”

“Nope. You may be the first guy I’ve gotten serious with, but you’re not my first boyfriend. That was what really got Dad on board with the whole thing. How sweet Benny was.” Dean winked at Cas. “And now your good looks will have him won over completely.” Cas hesitated, frowning in concentration.

“You are making a joke,” Cas stated with some uncertainty.

“Yeah, Cas. Pretty sure he’s going to stay with Mom after this long, no matter how attractive you are.” Dean added with a smile. Cas smiled back, seemingly pleased with himself, before clearing his throat and glancing away.

“Thank you, Dean. I… My family did not have the same reaction to my orientation. Thank you for, in a way, including me.” Dean might have imagined it, but it seemed Cas was leaning closer, his face very close to Dean’s. They exchanged the same air for a moment, Dean’s heart pounding painfully at both their proximity and undeniable distance.

“Sure, Cas,” he said after a pause, and the moment- if there had been one at all- was over.

“I suppose we should get some sleep,” Cas said evenly, rolling back to his half of the bed.

“Yeah... Sorry if I kick in the night,” Dean added belatedly.

Cas murmured something back that sounded a little like “I don’t mind,” but the pillow under Dean’s head smelled like Cas, and Cas’s warmth was tantalizingly close, and somehow Dean was already going to sleep without any of his earlier worries.

As long as he was with Cas, Dean supposed sleepily, he didn’t really need to worry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I welcome your comments below, and I look forward to any messages you care to send to amethystviolist.tumblr.com. Thanks!


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